(no subject)
I've been thinking a lot about my childhood lately. I think it was because of an assignment for Markos' class. And because I was sick all weekend. It gave me a lot of time to do nothing.
It's weird. I remember select things and I don't know why.
Like...
I can remember sitting on my dad's lap when i was about four. We were in the rocking chair. And he was teaching me how to blow my nose. Is that really weird? Do other kids just know how to do it naturally?
I also remember that I used to play with our typewriter when I was in second grade. I would write little stories and then illustrate them. My dad would give me coke in a coffee cup so I could pretend it was the real thing.
Then there was the summer I spent in the creek trying to catch tadpoles. Once I finally managed to get one, Brad told me it was a minnow.
The trees I used to sit under reading are gone. I can still remember the smell of my favorite books and the way the covers felt. And all the kids in my kindergarten class thinking i was a genius because I was reading chapter books at that age. Little did they know, right?
I like stories. I like to hear about people. Little details. Useless information in the long run. But then again, not so useless.
It's weird. I remember select things and I don't know why.
Like...
I can remember sitting on my dad's lap when i was about four. We were in the rocking chair. And he was teaching me how to blow my nose. Is that really weird? Do other kids just know how to do it naturally?
I also remember that I used to play with our typewriter when I was in second grade. I would write little stories and then illustrate them. My dad would give me coke in a coffee cup so I could pretend it was the real thing.
Then there was the summer I spent in the creek trying to catch tadpoles. Once I finally managed to get one, Brad told me it was a minnow.
The trees I used to sit under reading are gone. I can still remember the smell of my favorite books and the way the covers felt. And all the kids in my kindergarten class thinking i was a genius because I was reading chapter books at that age. Little did they know, right?
I like stories. I like to hear about people. Little details. Useless information in the long run. But then again, not so useless.